The Rain's Will
by furuichi-dono
Summary: Slightly AU. TYL. Where Yamamoto was not Tsuna's first rain guardian and Gokudera was just being himself. "Being the new rain guardian doesn't make you my friend. So fuck off, idiot. "
1. Guilt and sorrow are two different thing

Disclaimer: I don't own KHR.

A/N: The plot came when I read a fic where yamamoto was mercilessly killed and I thought 'What's going to happen now? No more rain guardian?', and this story was created. But I couldn't just kill yamamoto and enter a new character so I made it the other way around. Sato Yoshino was (WAS because from the very start of the story, I already killed him XD) just a character created by my twisted imagination.

* * *

Ch1- Guilt and sorrow are two different things.

_It is my fault that you're burnt to ashes inside a fucking urn._

* * *

On the first and last day of the late rain guardian's funeral, the Tenth told him with a solemn look on his, about the meeting that would be held one week from now. A few hours later, Gokudera found a thick file placed unassumingly on his office table containing a dozen profiles of people possible to be the next rain guardian.

Just a few hours passed and everyone was fucking ready to let go, forget about Sato Yoshino and move on.

It irked him big time.

After all, Yoshi was one of the best swordsmen the Vongola will ever have. Even the sword emperor himself acknowledged his prowess.

The man may be serious most of the time but only because of his responsibilities as the tenth generation rain guardian. Hell, if Yoshi was a serious man, then how do you regard Hibari and Reborn-san?

For him, Yoshi was just… Yoshi.

A purpose was all he need and he'd know what to prioritize. When he became the rain guardian, he vowed to serve and protect the Family, devoting his whole life for the only Family who believed in him. Gokudera knew this, for the reason that they share the same sentiment.

_Ahh~ but Hayato-chan will still be the first in my priority list~._

A sworn loyalty that took his life.

Gokudera could vaguely recall the night it happened. He was injured himself after a meeting gone wrong with an allied Family and was barely able to stand on his feet. All his muddled mind could remember was an ambush attack from the said Family, the deafening sounds of firing guns before a body covered his own as he pathetically hit the ground and lost consciousness.

The day after, the bomber woke up with the news of his friend's death from the multiple gunshot wounds he received.

No one dared to utter the words, but Gokudera knew, the bullets were meant for him. His limp shoulder was not an excuse, neither were his blurry eyes. He fucking screwed up everything and now Yoshi was dead and it's his goddamn fault, yet nobody blames him.

_"What the fuck, you idiot!? I told you I could take care of myself! You didn't have to take the punch for me!"_

_"Heh. You still have a long way to go before you could take a punch as powerful as that, Hayato." And Yoshi smiled, though it looked more like a grimace._

_"Asshole! Look what it got you, an ugly black eye just to save my sorry ass? What will the perv say?" He dabbed a wet towel on the bruised part of his friend's face, cleaning the surrounding area of the wound._

_The older kid laughed. "I'd save your sorry ass whenever I could, Hayato, and no one's gonna blame you for that. No one."_

Gokudera smiled bitterly. 'You just saved my life for the hundredth time and look where it got you.'

He was just an eight year old snotty, pampered kid when he first met Yoshi. His pale, tear-stained face was what the older kid saw as the latter open the front door on his tutor's house.

Yoshino did not laugh nor got disgusted by his wretched look, which what Shamal would have reacted if he saw him hat time. Cold yet warm silver eyes regarded him for seconds before he was ushered inside the house by the eager taller kid until he was settled on a couch.

_"You must be Hayato-bochan." And the black-haired boy smiled warmly at him._

Apparently, they're first meeting had been ingrained to Yoshi's memory, especially his red, puffy eyes and his quivering, pouty lips. The guy had told him a million times already how fragile he looks no matter how tough his words and actions were.

Back when he was ten and Yoshi was thirteen, he came across the group mafia brats calling him 'son of a bitch'. His young mind remembered the pretty woman who visits him once or twice a year, which he later found out, was his real mother, and started screaming profanities at the mean kids. But before he could swing his little limbs towards his assailants, one of the kids was suddenly knocked down on the ground by a full-force punch from an enraged black-haired teen.

_"You got a problem with my brother?"_

His brother, he had said. How could he say no to that? Ever since he found out the truth about his mother, Gokudera became the brat full of angst and hatred. And no soul could stand his self-pity but Yoshino; otherwise, the other wouldn't have tolerated him for years.

_But look where it got you._

If only he hadn't been clumsy on the things he should be protecting, then this wouldn't have happen. Was he supposed to live in revelry at the expense of Yoshino's life? Yes, for the past week after the funeral, he was able to carry out his duties as the storm guardian of the Vongola Family even with his injury. But only because he's been doing it for years that it already became a routine.

The selection for the new rain guardian was the main agenda of the meeting. A dispute could break out through the allied Families if the Vongola Family couldn't proclaim a new rain guardian the soonest possible time and it wouldn't be an amusing sight.

Now, after the said selection failed, mostly due to some argumentative opinions, he knew the boss is in turmoil. Usually, at times like this, Gokudera would literally come running to his _Juudaime_ to propose a solution in every conflict they got into. But right now, he couldn't bring himself to do just that, especially when he was the original cause of that problem.

'What does that say about me?'

_What about you? C'mon, Hayato. You're still as stubborn as before. Cut the Tenth and the rest of the family some slack._

Shut up, Yoshi.

_Were you stuck because of my heroic death?_

Heroic? It's a stupid death, fucker.

Gokudera chuckled to himself. He must be insane, talking to a dead person.

_At least I know you're still alive and kickin' some ass. You still got a long way to go._

Shut your blabbering mouth.

_It's not your fault, Hayato._

"That's for me to decide! Now, get the fuck out of my head!" he snapped into the thin air, his breath shaky and deliberate. He slowly opens his burning eyes and welcomes the darkness that cloaked the room. His clouded eyes stared ahead of him, where a shadowed vase was placed on an altar made for the dead.

The urn that contained the former rain guardian's ashes.

_I see._

"No, you don't. You can't. Not anymore."

He doesn't think that the day will ever come where talking to his self would be like talking to the real one.

* * *

Sawada Tsunayoshi had been contemplating on the things he'd done and should've not done.

It's just that, there are times when he tends to overdo things, especially if it's concerning the family.

The young boss sighed heavily. This past week's events made him doubt his own credibility as the Vongola boss. He knew his actions were justifiable. But somehow, everything he did only worsen the situation.

Gokudera was at a lost, blaming himself for the death of someone who understood and cared for him more than anyone could have. And Tsuna had just put a salt to that wound with the selection for the new rain guardian on the way.

He groaned inwardly. He hates himself so much when he knew he had gone beyond to what's only necessary. Sato-kun had been a great guardian; of course it wouldn't be easy to replace him. He's irreplaceable.

If only he could just let things stay this way. If only there is no such thing as power, blinding power, that is.

"Should you really be worrying yourself over such trivial things?"

Tsuna raised his head from his hands, eyes narrowing at the shadowed figure leaning against his office door. Through all his inner conflict, he hadn't felt his cloud guardian entering the room.

"Hibari-san, what are you doing here?" It's rare to have Hibari Kyoya step a foot in his office when not being summoned.

The suit-clad man strides towards Tsuna, a folder in hand. "Where's the ex-arcobaleno?" he asked nonchalantly, making himself comfortable at the seat in front of the table.

"You know he never tell anyone where he disappear to." he pause, thinking of a better answer when the other cocked an eyebrow. "But he often took it upon himself to attend to my inaccuracies, especially after the failure that was my plan."

"_Hn._"

The Vongola boss heaved another sigh. Yes, he had considered a whole lot of qualified members of the allied families for the selection of the new rain guardian, but the plan backfired. He assumed that the more the choices were the easier and the faster the search will be. Now he was slapped hard on his face of how mistaken he was.

Each of his guardians, except for Gokudera and Hibari-san, has their own opinion. Reborn wasn't satisfied, the same goes for his father. The Ninth seemed uncertain and Shoichi couldn't decide without his consent. His plan fell short and the meeting was a disaster. "I know. I know. But my only point is to have a solution the soonest possible time we could." Tsuna ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"I see. You still have the herbivore in you." The other man deadpanned.

The stressed boss had the sudden urge to laugh, and laugh he did. "I thought I'd never hear you call me with that name again. After all, it's been years since I evolved into an omnivore in your opinion. Am I right?" Caramel brown eyes stared intently at the man on the other side of the table; waiting for a confirmation he knew would come.

Tsuna wouldn't dare say that he have a close relationship with his stoic cloud guardian, but he could tell that Hibari had already accepted it in his mind that the herbivore back in the middle school, is now his boss. For the past years, the young boss found himself surprisingly having a small conversation with the ex-prefect, much like the one their having now. It might be short and more of one-sided but still Hibari listened.

"_Hn._ That's not the point though." The raven-haired man said in a matter-of-factly tone before he stood up and placed the folder he held on the desk. "Give it to him."

He frowned at the mauve folder on his desk. Another folder? What's with folders these days? Tsuna was starting to develop a really, really bad inkling for folders.

Tsuna snapped towards the door when he heard the knob being turned. "Wait! What-"

"And don't you even dare peek or I'll bite you to death." was what Hibari said before he closed the door behind him.

'Do not peek, he said?' He thought, dumbfounded. His curious eyes turned a shade darker as he glared at the folder he now had in his eyes. If his former tutor asked this from Hibari, then it must be classified, about what, he would have to find out.

A lithe hand slowly turns the leaf of the folder.

"He told you not to peek, didn't he?" came a familiar baritone voice behind him.

The Vongola boss moaned in frustration, not even startled by the sudden appearance of the aforementioned man. He just sort of expected that. "What? Don't I have the right?"

Tsuna heard a soft thud before a tall figure settled beside him, half-sitting on his desk. He looked up at the formidable man known before as the sun arcobaleno. The man, of course, was intimidating. Even before the curse was lifted, the baby form of the famed hitman still radiates authority. But not like before, Tsuna won't be swayed. "Well?"

Without a warning, the ex-arcobaleno snatched the file from his hands. "This," Reborn pointed, waving the folder on his face, "is the background profile of your new guardian."

For the second time that day, the young boss was dumbfounded as the folder was continuously being wave before his eyes, taunting him.

He knew that this man together with his father had been the ones to choose his guardians. They didn't explain how they came up with the line-up and he didn't have the guts to ask that time. But that was before.

"Reborn."

"He's not from the allied families and he's a kid no more if that's what you want to argue about, Dame-Tsuna." said Reborn. "But he did come from a family of hitmen."

"I knew it. You always have something under your sleeves, the craziest ones I'd say." Tsuna spat exasperatedly, giving his former tutor a reprimanding look, earning him a blank stare in return.

Silence fell between the two men.

Moments later, the younger man averted his eyes from the other. "I have to admit though, they worked more often than not."

He instantly regretted what had slipped out of his mouth when he saw Reborn's smug look. "It's not a compliment, Reborn. And if you think the others would approve-"

"You're the boss. You don't have to ask their permission on this." the former arcobaleno contested firmly.

"Opinion, Reborn, their opinions were as important as yours." Tsuna retorted evenly. "And you're right, I'm the boss so I still have to see if this new rain guardian, as what you already call him, is the right one. Not that I don't value your judgement on this, because believe me, I do. "

Reborn regarded him for a moment, his pierce eyes made his fingers twitched in anticipation of another argument. So he was slightly taken aback when the man just snorted and smirked at him.

"You have gone far now, Tsuna, far from what you were years ago." The hitman commented, a hint of pride in his tone.

A dust of pink was suddenly prominent on Tsuna's face, contradicting his otherwise affronted look. "Tha-That's not what Hibari-san said earlier." he snapped, scolding himself for stuttering from the compliment he rarely heard from his former tutor. "And that's beside the point!"

The other continued to smirk at him while he composed himself. "They ought to be inform regarding-"

"Hibari already knew." Reborn stated.

"Of course he does! You had him-"

"And Timoteo too."

"That's-"

"As well as Iemitsu and Shoichi, whom I asked to inform the others. The final decision lies in your hands."

The Vongola boss was rendered speechless. He really shouldn't have doubted this man. Even if he has a cruel way of doing things, it couldn't be hold against him. In the end, it'll always be a job well done.

"Alright. But I'll be the one to tell Gokudera-kun."

Sharp eyes under the fedora hat stared at him for the last time before the taller man move away from the desk, striding towards the door. "Suit yourself then, Vongola Decimo."

He nodded after the man. "This would have to wait till tomorrow."

Reborn halted on his steps. "Do what you must do, Tsuna." With that, the former arcobaleno walked out of the room.

Tsuna grab the violet folder left on his desk as he stood from his chair. 'I'll do it right this time.'

* * *

End of chapter 1

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've no excuse whatsoever for it though. Oh. And if you didn't notice, I had the older Reborn came in from the window! Haha XD

review!


	2. Remember me?

A/N: This chapter is for lemonsquare_cheesecake. I hope I got it correct. Thank you! ^_^

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything here but the story and the extra Sato Yoshino.

* * *

Ch 2- Remember me?

_If I jumped off the roof that night, will I still be able to see you?_

* * *

For Yamamoto, the _dojo_ is a good diversion.

The meditative atmosphere of it doesn't his heart beats fast with adrenaline like it does when he's in a baseball field. Neither does it drive his whole being to movemovemove and hithithit every ball aimed for him. His movements weren't as aggressive as when he's trying to catch, pitch, hit a ball. There are no cheers, yells whatsoever. Just the peace and calmness inside the large wooden room and the sound of his _shinai _cutting through the air.

Ten years earlier, he would have refuse to step inside the _dojo__, _or would have done everything to refrain from doing so, if ever he needs to.

But there came an incident that no one, not even himself, his father and his teammates would have predicted. A circumstance that had him wasting a whole day away, moping at _dojo._

Because to watch his teammates play is too tormenting.

At that time, he had come to hate the baseball so much that he boxed everything that will constantly remind him of the sport, and started visiting the _Asarigumi_.

His movements cease, arms falling to his sides. The practice sword rests in his right hand; the feel of it is not the same as the grip of a bat, but it's still a nice feeling. Warm, subdued and powerful yet not forceful.

Through the past years, these short practices became his safe zone, a moment and place where everything in him seemed subjugated. It's a different thing for him when his playing baseball.

Yamamoto couldn't fathom it himself, but that's how it goes for him.

He pants for a few seconds, eyes shut, his other senses automatically heightened. then he sat crossed-legs on the wooden floor with the _shinai_ beside him. A short meditation of sort.

It's his way of starting and ending a sword practice, which usually takes two to four hours, depending on how high-strung he is. Practice takes longer, especially after he return to playing baseball.

There's an instance, where his father windup fetching him late in the night just because he won't go home with his nerves itching to play again. But nonetheless, his pops approved of his nightly practice at the _dojo_.

That routine started, more or less, five years ago.

A sigh strained out of him. He was supposed to clear his mind, not rack it with thoughts he'd rather not dwell on. Memories of the past shouldn't bother him anymore.

But there's just one special encounter that night that he couldn't bring himself to let go of.

'What was his name again?'

The light beeping from his wristwatch snaps him out of his wandering thoughts.

"Ah~. Time to get going now."

Yamamoto got up from the floor and began gathering his things.

Good thing he had the sense to dropped by their house before heading straight at the _dojo__. _At least, his father would know where to look for him just in case he got worried again.

Not bothering to change from his practice garments, the baseball player locked the _dojo _up and began his way towards their house and shop, his footsteps almost light and bouncy.

The day has been good, it night as well be great, for him.

Before he went out early for a game, his father poured him a cup of tea with its stalk floating upright. A good omen. The weather was nice to play baseball and everyone in the team thought so too.

They won the game easily.

Indeed, it has been a great day.

No matter even when the man in the black suit showed up again. It's the fourth time that the same man tipped his fedora towards him.

If it's to congratulate him or to simply greet him, Yamamoto will never know. Unless he ask the man himself. But always, in those four times, the man just mysteriously dissolved with the crowd, unnoticed.

The only trace left that he'd been there was a faint yellow aura from where he stood. It's almost the same as the blue aura that the bladed _Shigure Kintoki_ emits.

A stable flow of energy, but a dangerous one if provoked.

He suddenly got a bad feeling about this.

Yamamoto knew very well what his father was before and a little after he married his mother.

Surely, the man wasn't after his father? Otherwise, he wouldn't be at his games, watching his every move and emitting that yellow aura just to catch his attention, right? Right?

Maybe he was just overthinking about things, but he couldn't help but quicken his steps.

Not his pops. Please not him.

His walk became a stride, until he felt his breathing turned into panting and realized that he's already running. But as he rounded the last turn to where their shop is, the panic-stricken man gradually slow down his pace. Then he halted when the shop came into view.

A black, heavy tinted car parked right in front of the entrance. And if it hadn't been for the lit cigarette hanging from his mouth, Yamamoto wouldn't have notice the guy leaning against the car.

With the only light coming from the street light adjacent to the shop, he had no way of seeing the man's face. But the silhouette of the man hovered with the smoke from his cigarette and his silver hair was very familiar to Yamamoto.

_"What the hell are you making a scene for? I'm fucking trying to_ _smoke here!"_

The silver-haired man suddenly turned his way. "What the fuck are you staring at?"

Yup. Definitely, he's the same man he met almost five years ago.

_"I better not see your pathetic excuse for a face on the headlines tomorrow, 'cause I will absolutely get back at you for making me waste a goddamn stick."_

___"Hey, Hayato! We have to go now!"_

"Hayato..."

* * *

A less frantic Sawada Tsunayoshi came to his room yesterday.

The last time Gokudera saw the young boss had been on the meeting two days ago, from which a decision was yet to be made.

Knowing the boss, Gokudera was sure he had already damned a number of soul to hell, if he could, for threatening the family. Not that he hadn't done so himself.

Whenever it concerns the family, no matter how small or big deal it was, the Tenth will always be on the edge of his sanity, with his hands on his head.

He understood the Tenth so well, up to the point that he share the same feeling and opinion.

But, there is always an exception to everything.

Everytime the Tenth would bring up the matter about the new rain guardian, the silver-haired man pointedly ignore it, changing their conversation to a more neutral ground.

His ashamed of this small folly, but it couldn't be help.

The idea always takes his mind off somewhere he's not yet ready to ponder over.

But the Tenth had him cornered yesterday.

Gokudera have never felt so suffocated around his beloved boss before.

Seeing the Tenth wore his rare stern look upon entering his room intimidated him like never before. He realized there have been no fucking point in running away from the very start.

It's fucking inevitable. Gokudera doesn't have a choice to begin with, no one does.

He just thought that stalling could prevent it.

But apparently, a new guardian has been selected.

_"Gokudera-kun, I hope you give this another chance. Come with us and meet him."_

The past week had him almost hating the Tenth and the family, now, he understood why he just can't.

He couldn't even comprehend why the Tenth was so compelled to act that way towards him, when all he ever did lately was to burden him. On the contrary, though, he was glad that his boss value his opinions and feelings on such a grave matter that a right-hand man really didn't have a say. Especially when his at fault.

His grip on the wheels tightens. His appearance contradicts the turmoil inside him.

There's no turning back now. After all his the Tenth's right-hand man.

So, Gokudera drove the car at a smooth pace, slow yet fast. Their destination; _Takesushi_. It's a sushi shop ran by a man named Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, a formerly known Japanese hitman, who wouldn't hesitate to take down anyone in the name of the Vongola Ninth.

He'd heard the name before. Hell, Yoshi used to ramble over and over the stories that circulated amongst the family, since the guy himself was a Japanese.

He, who uses _katana_ to kill so fast, that not a single drop of blood was left on it's blade.

Gokudera remembered scoffing at the legend.

As a dynamite and a gun user, he really hadn't thought of "killing" as a neat "job".

Maybe the words were just an exaggeration, perhaps a myth that fools tend to believe in. Either way, he will surely find out soon.

Soon isn't that farfetched when Reborn-san dealt matters his way; the Vongola way.

"Take the last turn to the right." Instructed the former Arcobaleno from the backseat.

The car came to a halt in front of a sushi shop a "closed" sign hanging on it's entrance.

A brief glance on his wristwatch tells him that they came right on time. They don't want to catch any unwanted attention from the shop's patrons.

Gokudera was the first one to alight from the car, checking the area for any threats before he open the door from the Tenths's side.

He was given a simple nod as Reborn came from the other side of the car, silently directing him to the shop's entrance.

The Mafia is often mistaken to be street gangsters, even though they don't announce their presence in the most extravagant way of kicking the door. Not if they can help it. And especially not in an ally's territory.

So, with a grace a mafioso should have, Gokudera slid the door open, entering in a fashion a regular costumer would. Only they didn't came here as costumers.

"Ah! I'm sorry but-" A man from behind the counter tried to reason out but was cut off at the sight the three suit-clad men.

Based on the white garment he wore, the man must be a worker on the sushi shop.

"Tsuyoshi."

Or maybe not.

To say that he was surprised was an understatement.

The man behind the counter, the one that Reborn-san called "Tsuyoshi", wasn't the hitman that he had expected. Judging by his appearance, the man could be at least three years older than the former Arcobaleno, though no one really knew what the latter's age was.

Gokudera glanced at the young boss on his side. The Tenth has this nostalgic look on his face as he smile warmly at the man.

If he recalled it right, the chosen rain guardian was a former classmate of the Tenth during his middle school years. The chance that the boss knew this man was very likely.

Breaking out of his shock, the man stepped out from behind the counter and regarded Reborn with a nod. "It's been a while, Reborn."

"Are you talking about my appearance, Tsuyoshi?" Reborn demanded.

The man in question burst out in a fit of laughter, one of his hands patting the other man at the back like they were old friends. "Nah. Just, the last time I saw you, you were as little as my Takeshi. Can't blame the old man, can you?" Then came another series of laughter.

"Ah... the curse was already lifted, Yamamoto-san."

Taking his time to regain his composure, the former hitman gave the young boss an endearing look. "I know, Tsuna-kun." he said, lifting a hand to take the boss' right hand to his. "Or should I say, Vongila Decimo?" The man lightly place a kiss on the Tenth's hand.

Even after mastering the look of indifference, that Gokudera himself had gotten so intimidated with, a tinge of pink still made itself apparent on the boss' face.

"Yamamoto-san..."

Gokudera just stood in the background; an spectator ready to blow if this man decided to take on the Tenth. Just in case.

Half his life was spent living in this mafia business, and it had thought him not to trust anyone but your boss and yourself.

Being an ally doesn't say a lot about this man, but he did trust the Tenth and Reborn-san. Though it wouldn't hurt to be alert all the time. He doesn't want to make the same mistake.

With a few words of introductions, they were ushered inside the shop, taking the table at the far end side. Gokudera only followed the Tenth, his eyes cautiously watching the older Yamamoto.

_One wrong move and your dead meat._

"Gokudera."

"Yes, Reborn-san?" He asked in controlled politeness.

"Such a chary look is not needed. Just relax."

Sparing the Tenth another glance, Gokudera sighed, forcing his tense demeanor aside. he slightly bowed his head towards the former hitman seating across the table. "Please excuse my rudeness. It was purely out of habit."

To his annoyance, the man only chuckled and waved a hand at him. "There's nothing to apologized, my boy." Yamamoto-san said, his nonchalant attitude suddenly took a serious one. "You shouldn't be sorry for doing your duty." Then a grin broke out his face that turned into a full blown guffaw.

Gokudera was utterly baffled by this man. He hates to say this but this, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, was one crazy man.

Sudden changes in mood and attitude isn't normal.

Oh God, let there be more to Yamamoto Takeshi than there was to this man.

* * *

_"Being the father doesn't give me the right to decide for him."_

Really, he wished that his own bastard of a father could be half the father that Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was, minus the craziness.

Gokudera let the butt of his third cigarette fell on the ground as he lit a new one.

Maybe his father was one of his kind.

He have to admit, he was never the type to separate his personal life to his work. For him, he live for his work and he face everything with his every being.

Masks were not his fashion.

His father tried to wear one, though he failed miserably, on Gokudera's account.

But Yamamoto-san, from what he witnessed, have managed to be a man, a hitman and a father in a short span of time.

It was so fucking confusing.

No man should be allowed to be anyone he wants all at once.

If you want to be a father, then don't go around wielding a sword to kill a dozen bastards or you'll end up hurting your son.

Smoke puffed out of his nose and mouth as he heaved a sigh.

Envy is a real bitch.

His father cannot be the father and the boss that he wants to be, and ended up hurting his own son.

Gokudera himself can't be anyone but Hurricane Bomb Hayato; the Vongola Tenth's right-hand man and the storm guardian. He couldn't be anyone, not even the younger brother that he once was.

Not anymore.

He might end up like his father if he dare try, so no, thank you. It was never one of his options.

The cold night breeze sent chills to his body, but it was more than welcome.

After Reborn's obtrusive way of stating their purpose, in which the older Yamamoto responded like the father that he was, Gokudera decided that a dose of the cancer stick will help him calm his nerves, and excused himself.

Yamamoto Takeshi was yet to arrive, as they were informed of his nightly practice at a _dojo_.

Gokudera's wristwatch says nine-forty. They've been here for almost an hour now.

_How long does this Yamamoto Takeshi intend to take his time?_

He groaned in frustration.

_Goddammit. _He had just lit the last cigarette in his person and he didn't even notice. He prayed that he had, at least, a spare pack in his car.

Gokudera unlocked the door from the driver's seat to hunt for a pack of cigarettes on the dashboard, if there are any.

Luckily, he have an emergency pack hiding under the dashboard mat. So, lighting a new stick, he resume his post just in front the shop entrance. His only company were his cigarette, the cold night and the murmured words coming from the shop.

If Yoshi were here, he will surely scold him for smoking more than he eats.

And if he were here, they wouldn't even have to step a foot on a former hitman's sushi shop, requesting for the service of his son.

Gokudera felt, more than heard, a ragged breathing that broke his trail of thoughts. His hand automatically move to his breast pocket where his prized gun was placed. One can never be too sure, even if he cannot sense any danger.

"What the fuck are you staring at?" He asked roughly, looking at the intruder.

Though the darkness of the night was making it hard for him to see the guy standing a few meters away, he could tell that he wasn't holding any weapons, nor was he in a combative stance.

"Hayato..."

_Who the hell... _"What did you just say?"

"You-You're Hayato, right?" The shadowed figure shuffled towards him, revealing a tall man carrying a duffel bag and two long cases.

Something in the way the guy had utter his name made his pulse jump a few beats and it didn't do any good to his mood.

"Who's the shit that gave you the right to call me by my first name, bastard?" He hissed, the hand in his suit shifted, locating the mini bombs he place in a different pocket in case the urge to blow this man to pieces came over him.

"No. I just... you don't remember me?" The bastard looked genuinely confused-and stupid, might he add- with his hand scratching the back of head.

It pisses him off.

And the bastard even have the guts to act like he knows him?

_This guy definitely has a lesson to learn._

But before Gokudera could lit up one of his bombs, the door to the shop slides open.

"Gokudera-kun? What- ah! Yamamoto!" The Tenth exclaimed.

He looked from the his boss, to the guy he nearly blow-up minutes earlier. The stupid man appeared to be more confused. "Who- hey! You're that guy from this morning!"

"Heh. Seems like you remembered." Reborn said, coming out of the shop.

"Well, why don't we all come in so I can properly introduced my son?"

* * *

_He was trying to be the best, but he windup at the hospital, rendered useless.  
_

_The hours passed by in a blur of pain and screams. One moment he was just swinging his bat, then minutes later his right arm felt numb and when he forced it to feel, an excruciating jolt of pain almost made him tear the said limb off his body._

_His teammates from the university ran towards him when he fell to the ground. Gripping his dear limb, Yamamoto was begging to please stop hurting or he won't make it for the tryouts._

_But it throbbed even more._

_Repetitive Strain Injury or RSI, that's the pathetic case his right arm had fallen to. The doctor explained that overuse of muscles on his arm was the probable cause of the injury. That he's lucky enough to have spared his left arm from the same state.  
_

_Who's lucky? The fallen look on his father's face surely doesn't indicate such luck._

_After the pain came the numbness. His arm felt tender and not a pinch could make a reaction out of it. Yamamoto couldn't feel a thing and it scared the life out of him.  
_

_What about baseball? What about the tryout for the Namimori team? What about everything._

_The doctor had banned Yamamoto from doing anything that would strain his arms for the next six months, tentatively. If the pain stays regardless of the rests and treatments, he would have to quit baseball completely._

_He couldn't take the pity on his father's face so look away, asking everyone in his hospital room to leave him alone for a while._

_Their pity won't change a thing. It'll only be an extra baggage for them, and he don't want to be a burden to anyone._

_He listened as everyone left the room, including his father. The silence of the room wasn't making him feel any better._

_Yamamoto was released from the hospital the next day. It's not like the doctor could do anything on his current condition. All that was left to do was wait, see the doctor weekly, hope, see a therapist, wait, avoid the baseball field, hope and wait and hope and wait._

_Until the days became weeks and then months and the hoping and waiting was over. Only to turn out that six months wasn't enough._

_Yamamoto just smiled at his father and excused himself from the doctors office._

_They said that it usually takes longer, sometimes a lifetime, to overcome this injury._

_No. Six months was enough. He couldn't do this anymore. So he ran._

_He ran through the quiet corridors of the hospital, ignoring the warnings coming from the nurses he passed by. He climb the flight of the stairs and pushed the heavy metal door leading to the rooftop._

_The autumn night felt damp on his skin. Aside from him, the rooftop was empty._

_Maybe, his arms could do this much. He could now do only this much._

_He headed for the edge of the deck and gripped the fence. A piercing pain ached through his right arm, forcing a strangled scream broke out of him, tears of pain and helplessness poured out of his eyes._

_How pathetic he had become. First, he couldn't swing a bat and now he couldn't even try to end his misery?_

_Gripping the fence even through the pain, Yamamoto could now only laugh miserably._

_"What the hell are you making a scene for? I'm fucking trying to smoke here!"_

"For fuck's sake. Why do you keep staring? Got a problem with me?"

Yamamoto blinked a few times before he saw the scowling man seating on the driver's seat beside him.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't notice." He said, scratching the back of his head and an embarrassed smile on his face.

"What? You hate smoke?" Gokudera snapped. A pale hand resting at the open window of the car flicked, the ashes at the end of the cigarette stick came flying after the speeding vehicle. "Not gonna fuckin' waste it just to please you."

"Uh... No. Not really. It's just..." the other man did not respond, but he continue anyway. "Don't you really remember me?"

The car came to a sudden halt that he almost fell towards the dashboard. He glanced in front of him, then at the stop light by the pedestrian crossing before turning back at Gokudera, whose frown only deepen.

"Do I look like I fucking recognize you? And if I did met you, as what you have assumed, then I'm sure it's not worthy enough to be remembered. Now, zip that mouth of yours and let me drive in peace." The silver-haired man stepped on the gas and off they went.

_Well, that's a bit harsh for something that had somewhat changed his life._ Yamamoto sighed inwardly and leaned back on his seat.

Two nights ago, this man beside him, with Tsuna and his former tutor, came to inform him that he had been chosen to be the new rain guardian of the Tenth Generatation Vongola Family. It was rather confusing and overwhelming at first. But even though he hadn't got the gripped of the matter at hand, he still nodded an affirmation in the end.

Yamamoto didn't even know what got him to say yes. Probably it was this smoking man beside him, even though he don't recall meeting him. But a big fraction of his decision was his father.

And the morning after he called his decision to Tsuna, this man, Gokudera Hayato, came early in the morning for a formal meeting with the rest of the guradians, that brings him now to the passenger seat of a red luxurious car being driven by the said man.

He wasn't formally introduced to the silver-haired man, but he knew that he's one of the guardians. Though that doesn't explain why Hayato was the one to fetch him. And judging from the seemingly permanent frown on his face, the task has been against his will.

Yamamoto just hope it wasn't because he had annoyed the man. That was the least thing he would ever want to happen.

* * *

End of chapter 2.

* * *

Hah! At last, chap two is done. I hope the longer chapter and the sort of interaction between the two-you know who- could make you type a short review. It's really a pain to type, ya know. XD

Oh, plus I don't have a first hand experience of the mentioned injury, so pardon for the short explanation.


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